By Robert Hunt
In 1989, I made my oddball Cornish, New Hampshire, pilgrimage.
I learned of his midday saunters to the post office from a local scandal sheet. Asking him to sign The Catcher in the Rye would look awkwardly amateurish. Instead, I’d stroll alongside, conspicuously clutching The Satanic Verses. At the time, Salman Rushdie was eluding those deranged fatwa adherents. This might be the key.
Zero hour. The face was worn but recognizable. We were abreast. Out came the book.
“Mr. Salinger. Have you read it?”
“Goddamn shitty fame,” he murmured, glancing both at me and my now failed conduit.
He bolted away.
Masterful and hilarious.
And we think fandom is a new thing,,, This was a great read.
I enjoyed this story very much, Robert. Well done.
Love this. Thank you Robert. Wouldn’t mind som fame of any kind haha
Love it! 😀
J. D. Salinger took the quest for privacy to a whole new level. Even though this encounter didn’t turn out well, it must have been awesome to have seen him in person. Thanks for sharing this memorable experience, Robert.